Stolen Liberty: Behind the Curtain

by Thomas A. Watson

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Outside Chicago, IL

  They took turns resting and standing watch for the remainder of the day. Kristi busied herself with getting the kids’ clothes dried out and the gear sorted. The most important, or most frequently used items would end up either in exterior pockets of the bags or near the top once the backpacks were loaded up again. Now that he had time, Robbie took the kids aside and tried to fit the body armor panels they’d taken from the deputies at the roadblock. With Ranger ingenuity, Robbie used duct tape, a knife, a needle with fishing line, and paracord to make the gear work for the much smaller kids. He cut extra Kevlar panels and doubled the front and back armor thickness to cover their vital organs.

  “It’s the worst sewing job I’ve ever done, but it will stop a pistol round,” Robbie grumbled to himself.

  Ryan walked over and saw the makeshift body armor. “Is that going to do any good?”

  “I don’t know, Ryan, but I have the Kevlar, so I might as well try,” Robbie shrugged, feeling tension building in his shoulders when Ryan stopped beside him.

  Ryan looked at the stitching. “Not bad for a guy with only one hand. Where did you learn to sew?”

  “Physical therapy. It’s not part of the treatment program, but I needed something I could do that required a delicate touch. Sewing helped with my fine motor control. I can even thread my own needle.” Blaster opened and closed the three-fingered claw for Ryan by flexing his left forearm.

  “Why do you worry about threading a needle?” Ryan asked, involuntarily stepping back from the claw.

  “Because I want a fine touch when I’m reloading ammo or pulling wire on a rehabbed house. I’m not much for sitting on my ass and letting someone else do something for me that I can do for myself,” Robbie spat, slowly looking up at Ryan.

  “You don’t like me much, do you?” Ryan asked, squatting down. Robbie looked at the arrogance on Ryan’s face and had to fight the urge to knock it off.

  “After the screwing you gave me on that house in Lincoln Park, I lost respect for you. When you led a gang of murderers to Kristi’s house, I decided I’ll bleed you slow with much pain and watch the light fade from your eyes. It’s just a matter of time, Ryan Dillon. All I need is a reason from you,” Robbie spoke without inflection and cold eyes, locking his gaze on Ryan’s eyes as he spoke. Suddenly very afraid of the man behind the claw, Ryan stood up and went back into his tent.

  As the sun crept toward the western horizon, they broke down the tents and stowed the sleeping bags before taking down the tarp. Packed up, Randy led them out when twilight settled over the land. The miserable rain drenched them all within the first hour of the slow slog through the forest preserve.

  They avoided the open fields and easy routes of travel like the plague and kept to the edge of the woods. The sounds of gunfire picked up from all around them as the daylight faded. At one point, Randy had them all dive into the bushes along the trail when a line of bicyclists flew by on the paved trail with their headlights shining their way, going away from the heavily populated cities. A single pop from a gun to the east started a crescendo of pops and cracks as a gun battle started and ended within an hour.

  Lifting his hand, Randy slowed the pace and scouted ahead, leaving Charlie on point. Not even gone for half an hour, Randy met up with them and had them all stop.

  Dropping to one knee as the team closed in, Randy glanced at each one, “We have to keep to the woods for now, and the shooting we heard earlier was a group attacking a house. The neighbors picked the attackers off from their own homes. People are pulling together and protecting each other. That’s a problem for us. We can’t risk going into any built-up areas and risk getting our tails shot up by itchy homeowners.”

  “What’s your plan, Shadow?” Cody asked as gunfire sounded in the distance. “I’m amazed there is this much ammunition in the area for all the gunshots. This is Chicago, after all,” Cody noted, and the others nodded in agreement.

  “We hole up for another day in the Southern Green Belt Forest Preserve. It will be like yesterday. We stay quiet and sleep through the day, and pull out at dusk again,” Randy laid out the plan.

  “Why lay up so close, Shadow? We can make more distance than that tonight,” Charlie asked, wanting away from this cursed city.

  “We run out of forest. Our next night will take us through the suburbs, and we are going to need all of our energy and focus ready for that. For now, let’s move out and find a place to rest up. We have to cross two different interstates in a short period of time, and those make me nervous.”

  Not getting any objections, Randy stood and flipped his monocular down. Adjusting the gain when the rain picked up, Randy let the light-gathering tube do its magic, then slowly eased off. The falling rain covered the sound of their passage through the stands of trees. When they reached an open field, Randy had them stay behind while he ran ahead to check for attackers.

  Charlie provided overwatch for the group as they made mad dashes across the open spaces. At Interstate 80, they didn’t pause when Randy jumped the barrier and sped across the divided lanes, but waited for a reaction before waving to Charlie and Cody. Charlie and Robbie watched as Cody sprinted across and joined Randy on the far side. With the four in position from each side, they sent Kristi across with the kids before sending the Dillons over.

  Charlie ran over next, with Robbie finishing the crossing.

  “Jesus! That made my butthole pucker,” Robbie shivered.

  “See? Every time you say something like that, I think of that time in Italy,” Charlie poked fun at Robbie.

  “Hey, not in front of the kids. A man has to have his secrets, after all,” Robbie grumbled.

  Knowing this banter could last awhile, Randy shook his head and rolled his eyes behind his monocular. “Can we move on? I don’t like being this close to the highways.”

  “Why? It’s empty,” Tabitha pointed to the empty interstate.

  Robbie scoffed, “It’s empty, until you see a convoy of troops rolling along with thermal scopes and automatic grenade launchers. You don’t want to be anywhere near that kind of trouble.” Robbie helped Chase stand up. “We gotta go.” He herded the Dillon family in the right direction and listened to the rain pattering to the ground. “This shit never happens when the skies are clear, does it?” he grumbled to himself.

  They pushed through the tangled scrub brush and thorns for hours until they hit the second interstate they had to navigate, in the middle of the Tinley Park Forest Reserve.

  Randy halted them back in the woods. “Book, we have a team set up on a bridge down the interstate that I need you to take a look at.”

  “You think it’s another blocking force?” Charlie asked.

  “I can’t tell. Your scope has better magnification than my gear, but if they are a threat, I want to avoid or eliminate it. We will be sleeping just on the other side of this interstate tomorrow, so I’d rather avoid any contact.” Randy scratched at the beard coming in.

  “Can we track back to the north and cross?” Cody asked.

  Scanning behind them, Robbie sighed, “No can do, Babyface. The trees run out up there. We have to cross here or go south, which puts us closer to that overpass.”

  Charlie crept to the edge of the highway and settled behind a tree to scope out the men on the bridge. He switched on his goggles and scanned the light signature coming from the bridge, picking up a stray laser dancing along the highway. The laser passed through the rain and threw off sparks of energized light. Behind the goggles, Charlie sighed, “Well, shit.”

  He turned off the goggles and swung them up before settling behind the thermal scope. Randy came up behind him and asked, “Run or fight, Book?”

  “Can’t run, Shadow. I have to drop them here if we are going to cross.”

  “You want me to ease up closer, Book?”

  “I can get them from here. It’s only a little over two hundred meters. That’s like shooting fish in a barrel,” C
harlie said, picking one heat signature and waited for his crosshairs to settle. He practiced moving to the four different targets and anticipating how they would move when they started taking fire. When he had planned out three different scenarios on the groups movement, he whispered to Randy, “Sending.”

  Within ten seconds, he had hit the four men on the bridge. The first two received headshots, but the next target took a round in the throat. The last member of the crew stood up and got drilled in the chest for his troubles. When he sat up, Charlie pithed him like a frog.

  “Four hits, Shadow. Bring them over, and I’ll watch for movement from up there,” Charlie called out softly, pulling out a fresh magazine and replacing the partially expended one from the rifle.

  Lowering his body, Randy prepared himself and then hurdled the guardrail, landing in a dead run. Leaping up, he jumped over the fence of cable running along the centerline and sprinted across the northbound lanes before hurdling the rail on the opposite side.

  Diving into the trees, Randy gulped down air and moved over to a tree, looking across the road. Nobody had shot at him, so he chalked it up as a win. He waved for Cody to follow his lead, and the younger man easily crossed the interstate.

  “Showoff,” Randy ribbed Cody as he landed.

  “Old fart,” Cody chuckled. “You want Blaster to go up there and grab their gear?”

  “That’s not a bad idea. He likes going through dead men’s pockets,” Randy joked. He pointed to the overpass and back at Blaster. Pulling into a crouch, Blaster waved in understanding and took off down the side of the highway.

  “I haven’t seen him run like that since Kristi made biscuits and gravy,” Cody chuckled.

  Charlie stayed back and watched the Wheatons and Dillons scramble across the interstate and struggle to get the kids over the center fence.

  Checking the surroundings, Robbie ran up the embankment and fell to his task of stripping the useful gear off the four dead men. He took the weapons, ammo, and night vision equipment still serviceable. Charlie had taken out one of the units with a shot to the head that had exploded the goggles before blasting out a chunk of his brain. Robbie grabbed extra batteries and rations from their bags. With the load of gear, Robbie crossed the bridge and looked around for a vehicle the dead team could’ve used.

  Not spotting one, he ran back to the group gathered under a stand of trees. “I scored some night vision, batteries, ammo, and extra gear. They didn’t have a vehicle, so someone will come check on them and change guard. We need to hustle.”

  Needing no encouragement, Randy took off and Cody followed. The rest of the group shrugged and started jogging on their heels. Robbie took up the rear and scanned behind for anyone following them. They went deeper into the forest preserve and put miles between them and the interstate. Randy led them to a spot by a small pond and found a potential campsite tucked back in the trees.

  “Same drill as the last camp. Tarp it and set up the tents. We can try to fish in the pond, but only if we can stay out of sight. Sleep, eat, and try to get dry,” Randy told them, then left the camp and searched the immediate area for threats while they set up camp. They threw the tarp and tents up first and under the cover, Kristi heated up water for another round of rehydrated food. Randy came back and sat under the tarp with Book.

  “I hate being so close to where we hit that team, but I was right. This forest runs out at Vollmer Road. We are between the interstate and Cicero Avenue here,” Randy grumbled and pulled out his map.

  “We haven’t made any progress yet to the east, have we?” Charlie asked.

  “Nope. We had to come this way to avoid the worst areas. Like I said, tomorrow night is going to be tough, and we need everyone rested up for it. This is our little bit of luxury before it gets bad.” Randy slid out from under the tarp and circled the area wider, looking for threats.

  Going through the gear, Robbie gave the working night vision to Kristi and the kids to use. “We don’t have unlimited batteries, so only use them when I say so. The harnesses are for adult-sized heads, but we’ll have to make them work for now.” Clark and Emily thanked him before they crawled into their tent.

  Kristi waited until they were inside to ask Robbie a question, “You took these off some dead men, didn’t you?”

  “Where else would I get them? They didn’t need them anymore,” Robbie shrugged and slid over to check on the magazines he had taken from the dead men and divided the spoils among the four packs lined up along the inside of the tarp. He pulled out his poncho liner and wrapped himself up before falling asleep, laying in a bed of wet leaves.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Country Club Hills, IL

  Feeling a soft tap, Charlie opened his eyes and saw Cody over his face. “Shadow’s back,” Cody said softly.

  Lifting his arm, Charlie glanced at his watch. “Damn, four hours. Almost a record,” he mumbled, pushing his poncho off himself. Seeing the other three kneeling off to the side of the camp, Charlie moved over to them.

  “Why did you let me sleep so long?” Charlie asked, buckling his helmet on and hearing diesel engines groaning in the distance.

  “Book, if any of us sleep longer than three hours, it’s a miracle,” Robbie answered. “The only reason you’re up now is Shadow came back with shit for news.”

  Turning to Randy, “When did you get back?” Charlie asked.

  “Fifteen minutes ago,” Randy shrugged.

  With his face going slack, “You’ve been gone for over six hours?” Charlie grumbled, and Randy nodded. “I take it those engines we hear aren’t good?”

  Wiping the leaves away between them, Randy started drawing in the dirt with his gloved finger. “That huge field to our west, they are putting up chain-link fence like you see on construction sites. It’s five hundred yards by five hundred yards. And they are putting another smaller one just north of it. It may be smaller, but it’s two hundred yards squared,” Randy told them and moved his finger over. “They moved the trains off from here two hours ago and four locomotives with a very long line of cattle cars pulled in.”

  Drawing in the dirt, Randy put I-80 to their north and I-57 to their east, which was only six hundred yards from them. “They have roadblocks where I-80 and I-57 meet to our northeast. Then here where Vollmer Road crosses I-57, they have another hasty roadblock, but it looks more like a command and control group,” Randy explained, pointing at each area in the dirt. “They are detaining people at each site in large groups, in the clover loops the ramps make. There are vehicles on the ramps with manned machine gun mounts.”

  “Fuck,” Robbie moaned as Kristi came out of the tent.

  “Don’t stop, keep going,” Kristi said, walking over to join them.

  “Who’s manning the roadblocks?” Charlie asked, looking at the lines in the dirt.

  Wiping the dirt off his glove, “I saw cops, feds, National Guard, regular Army and Marines,” Randy answered, then looked over at Charlie. “And fifty German troops wearing blue helmets.”

  “How did they get here so fast?” Robbie gasped, but Randy never turned, keeping his eyes on Charlie.

  “The German troops have their own equipment,” Randy informed them with no emotion. “I saw six of their armored personnel carriers, TPz Fuchs.”

  Closing his eyes, Robbie knew better than to question what Randy had seen. “Maybe they flew them in at O’Hare,” Robbie tried to reason.

  “I know that’s not all your news, Shadow,” Charlie said, looking down at the dirt drawing.

  “This subdivision here,” Randy said, drawing small boxes just below Vollmer Road. “I watched troops driving along and emptying houses. The thing is, they weren’t searching all the houses. A captain was directing the search from the cupola of an MRAP and holding a laptop. The convoy would stop, and the captain would point at a house. I watched them close on the house, then search it and the weird thing is, nine times out of ten, the house they were clearing was occupied. If those inside didn’t come out, they
were brought out or shot inside.”

  As one, everyone gave a shiver as Randy lifted his finger from the dirt. “How did they know someone was home?” Kristi asked.

  “Wondered that myself,” Randy nodded, looking at the drawing. “We’ve cleared enough houses, and nobody is that good. So, I went and talked to a sergeant, and asked him while he was taking a leak.”

  Kristi gasped as the boys waited for Randy to continue. “They were going into houses with active cell phone signals. That’s what the laptop the captain has was for,” Randy told them slowly. “After talking to the sergeant, I followed them a little longer and watched them pull a man out of a parked boat that was tarped up. One of the troops pulled a cell phone from the man’s pocket.”

  “Where’s the sergeant?” Clark asked, and everyone turned to see him standing outside the tent.

  A twitch on Randy’s face flared his nose as he stared at the dirt. “Last I saw him, he was laying down on the grass and looking up at the sky,” Randy answered, leaning over and drawing more detail to the southeast.

  Clark ran over. “He could tell!” Clark gasped in shock.

  Shaking his head, “No. Poor soul cut his throat shaving,” Randy grinned, continuing his drawing in the dirt.

  “These young people today just aren’t careful,” Robbie sighed with fake remorse. “Shaving is an art that takes time to learn.”

  “That’s why I use an electric razor,” Cody nodded. Reaching back, Kristi pulled Clark beside her as Clark looked around the group.

  Moving from squatting down to rest on his knees, Charlie watched Randy draw. “Okay, ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag. What else?” Charlie asked.

  “The troops have overwatches on the overpasses and are patrolling the roads five miles out,” Randy added, and Charlie reached over, grabbing his wrist.

  “You moved out five miles?” Charlie almost growled.

  “No,” Randy scoffed, looking up. “The sergeant told me.”

  Letting Randy’s wrist go, Charlie leaned back on his knees. “Sorry, Shadow. I should’ve known you know better than that,” Charlie said as Randy continued drawing. “I take it you’re about to tell us how we get out of the FUBAR we’re in?”